


Writing on the Wall

by retrovertigo (ellameno)



Series: The Great Fire [13]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Bethesda hire me to world build for you, Bonding, Developing Relationship, Discovery, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Intimacy, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Kindred Spirits, Mentor/Protégé, Recovery, Relationship Discussions, Robot Feels, Robot/Human Relationships, Secrets, Self-Reflection, Slow Burn, Survivor Guilt, Worldbuilding, fluff with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 01:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13513983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellameno/pseuds/retrovertigo
Summary: After a day of hard luck, Nora and Nick take shelter and discover some strange things in the process.





	Writing on the Wall

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm back! Holidays took some time from me so that's why this was so slow to edit and post. This is what is basically a deleted scene with some plot thrown in since I keep having to reshuffle my plan as I find better ways to do things, haha. 
> 
> Thanks to [seaweedredandbrown](http://archiveofourown.org/users/seaweedredandbrown/pseuds/seaweedredandbrown) and [Coldharbour](http://archiveofourown.org/users/coldharbour) for beta-reading.

        “That... wasn't fun,” Nora groaned.

        Their next case had gone south. A kidnapping— more accurately a _presumed_ kidnapping. A farm boy had run off under the pretext he’d found a job opportunity, then not a day later the family had received a ransom note. 500 caps, to be left in a mailbox to ensure safe return. Nick had pocketed the money just in case, and the pair and their dog had followed a scent trail that lead to a raider camp.

        This should have been easy, a negotiation of trade. If force would have been needed, they would have been able to count on each other. Nora was becoming quite the sniper and Nick as adept as always for storming the castle due to his borderline invulnerable nature. But as soon as the missing boy’s name had been mentioned, the base had erupted into chaos.

        Nick had grabbed the meekest one he could apprehend. The twiggy bandit had broken down almost instantly, begging not to be ‘snatched’ — one of the few occasions Nick had been contented to reduce a human to tears. It had soon been revealed that the farm boy had in fact joined the raiders... and promptly died after an initiation ceremony gone wrong. After disposing of the evidence, the gang had posted a ransom, hoping to reap some kind of financial gain from the mourning family. To Nora it was a crushing twist of fate. Nick hadn’t seemed surprised. He had let the thug skulk off after a stern lecture and a vague yet effective threat.

        Once informing their clients of the news, Nick had waived his fee under the excuse that he hadn’t brought their son home neither alive _nor_ dead, thus not upholding his promise. The detectives had accepted some provisions as a ‘gift for their troubles’ and then had moved onward, attempting to leave the tragedy behind them.

        “You alright?” Nick asked an hour or so after they had started the trek back home.

        “Yeah,” she replied, chewing gum with vigor.

        “You sure? I can see the tremble off you from miles.”

        “I’m shaking, not shaken.” Nora shrugged, not particularly eager to delve into details. “I’m just cold. And I need a drink.”

        “Oh, shaken not stirred, huh?” His joke was met with silence. “Mmn, that fell flatter than I hoped.”

        “Sorry.”

        “Don't _apologize_ , they can't all be winners,” he said. “Here.”

        She glanced over. Nick was offering up his coat. “Oh, _Nick—_ ”

        “You said you were cold. Take it. I need to air out the vents, anyway.”

        She slipped into it, relaxing as it enveloped her in his now familiar scent. Today it stung a little in her nose but nevertheless it eased her nerves, reminding her of his gentle hugs with her face buried in his shoulder.

        “You need to talk about it?” Nick asked, reading her too well.

        “Seeing their faces, it...” Nora’s voice trailed off. “I... I know how it feels for your kid to vanish. And I feel like we let them down.”

        “I never claimed this job was easy,” Nick said softly, to which Nora sighed again. “Don't get discouraged, my dear. It’s hard luck sometimes, but at least no one else got hurt. We just told the family what they already knew.”

        _What they already knew..._ The dark thought finally forced its way out of her.

        “That's gonna be _me,_ isn't it—”

        “ _Hey._ Knock that off, and listen. You got your street thugs, and then you got your organized crime. The Institute, well, that falls under the latter. They don't kill just for a thrill. Your boy is safe, and I’d put my entire reputation on that, alright? Just a matter of reclaiming what's yours.”

        “I guess... I guess I needed another reality check. That this job is... _a job_. I just hate feeling helpless, there was nothing we could do for them...” She tried to stealthily wipe away a tear, but Nick, ever attentive, noticed.

        “C’mere,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close as they walked. She felt small and embarrassed. “Some days it's bad and some days it's good. The thing of it is we tried. If you're not up for the bad—”

        “I'm up for it,” Nora interjected.

        “Was gonna say I could field those cases solo.”

        “I don't need you to carry the emotional toil alone.”

        “You're sweet. You're a stubborn bull, but you're sweet.”

        “Taurus,” she whispered.

        “Oh right, you subscribe to bull _crap_ too.” He pushed her away playfully, startling a laugh out of her.

        “I’ll turn you someday, Valentine,” she taunted.

        “Not at my old age.”

        “I went to school to be persuasive.”

        “Yeah, you get what you want, don’t ya?” Nick smiled. Nora giggled mischievously. “Mmn... you feel that?”

        “Feel what?”

        “Electricity.”

        “What?”

        “There a—” He turned back. “Ho-ly smokes.” Nora spun around too. The once blue sky had a sickly tinge to it, and in the distance there grew a wall of flashing light behind fog. “Now that's a radstorm.”

        “Oh, you were being _literal_.”

        “What else would I mean?”

        Nora had only weathered two of these tempests before, but none of this apparent magnitude. The speed in which it arrived on the horizon shocked her.

        “You can’t pop a pill for that one,” Nick said uneasily, “we should really find someplace to cower.”

        “If we are where I think we are, there’s a hospital way up the road. We can make it if we run.”

        ---

        Nora praised her lucky stars when the hospital not only came into view but stood to all appearances unscathed in stark contrast to its surroundings. A lantern sat in one of the main windows, unlit, a good indication that the building remained accessible but potentially unoccupied.

        The rusted doors were nearly off their hinges, separated enough for the travelers to effortlessly slip through. Within, they were greeted by an admissions table. Above dangled paper party letters that said ‘WELCOME’ and below it a more official looking sign reading: ‘PLEASE REMAIN CALM AND PROCEED TO WAITING ROOM’.

        “This isn't a trap, is it?” Nora deadpanned, before mentally scolded herself for potentially jinxing things.

        “If it weren’t a hospital, I might be a bit more leery of signage bossin’ me around,” Nick replied, giving the room an ocular sweep. Nora followed his cue. The dust atop the table itself seemed as dense as dryer lint, and the party decor bleached and fragile in a way that suggested it hadn’t been touched in an era. “Guess we should do what they say and _calmly proceed_.”

        They circled around the reception area and into an inordinately lengthy hallway that ended in a pinprick of light. The air was not as musty as Nora expected, but the dog ahead of them sneezed profusely, likely getting dust up his nose as he combed for scents.

        “Further, further into the deep,” Nick joked ominously as they walked. “Hey, turn on your headlights, will ya? I may glow, but I don’t have night vision.”

        “Oh, right.” She nodded instinctively in the darkness, switching on the PipBoy light.

        “ _Woah,_ ” they uttered in sync.

        Illumination revealed signatures and messages blanketing the walls of the corridor, top to bottom. Nora hadn’t seen anything even remotely like it in her travels, though she  _was_ new to this world. For a fearsome fleeting moment she suspected they were warnings, but instead they were records of lives passing through the hospital’s refuge.

        “Have you heard of this place?” Nora asked.

        “Not specifically, though I don’t get out much if it’s not for a case.”

        She inspected one section closer, studying the contents of the scrawl, some of them humorous, most mundane, and a few hopeful.

        “This is so cool! I wonder if anyone I know is on here.” It would take possibly a whole day to scan through all of them.

        “Some of these look pretty old, I wouldn’t actually be surprised if a few of them were the first survivors,” Nick said, holding his lighter up to the opposite wall.

        “Yeah, maybe. I see quite a few doctors and nurses on here.”

        “Others might be those who were wheeled in for triage and lived.” The pair poured over the inscriptions with interest, wordlessly reading testimonies of close calls, praises to deities, towns of origins and ages of small children. Nick eventually broke the silence: “Oh, this one’s definitely new, it’s _Cricket_.”

        Nora snorted, then turned to him. “We should sign too.”

        “Really?”

        “ _Nick Valentine was here_.” She swept her hand through the air. “Strike fear in the hearts of your enemies.”

        “I try not to keep any, thank you very much.”

        “Then make any ne'er-do-wells think you’re watching, like the Shroud.”

        “Fine, fine. You got a pen or somethin’?”

        She dug in her bag and pulled out a worn down pencil. “You write it though.”

        “Why me?” he balked.

        “Your handwriting is pretty.” She gave him a cloying smile.

        “Defeats the purpose of an autograph.”

        “We’re just letting people know we were here.”

        He took the pencil from her fingertips. “Guess it’s best either way: you need to be tall to find room.”

        Finding himself a suitable spot, in cursive he signed:

        _Nora &_

        _Nick Valentine_

        She couldn’t hold back a laugh.

        “What? Penmanship not to your standards? The wall is—”

        “Strangers are gonna think we're married,” she replied.

        “Huh?” Nick peered at her, then back at the signature. “ _Oh._ Oh jeez, right.” He erased the ampersand. “Here, what's your last name, kid?”

        “Which one?”

        “Oh uh—” He gaped at her again. “ _Huh?_ ”

        “I have like... three last names.”

        “What’d you go and do that for?” He chuckled.

        “Well, there's the one on my birth certificate, the one from my grandparents after they adopted me, and my married name.”

        “Oh... Well, which one you like?”

        “Does it even matter anymore?” She shook her head as she considered things. “They all represent different parts of my life. All parts that are dead now. Just... Just Nora is fine.”

        “Even Elvis had a last name,” Nick softly quipped.

        She flashed a bittersweet smile. “I’ll figure it out in time,” she said. “Like everything else, I just need time.”

        “Good. I like that kind of thinkin’.” He then looked back at the wall. “Anyway, if we _were_ married, alphabetically speaking, my name would go first. So.” He penciled the ampersand back in. “Til you re-Christen yourself, any misconceptions are due to a lack of education.”

        “Because wastelanders are so well versed on syntax.”

        “Enough to write these messages. Besides, if anyone recognized my name they wouldn’t suspect _me_ of gettin’ wed so it doesn’t matter either way.”

        “Are you telling me you’re a _confirmed_ bachelor? So _that’s_ why there’s no ring on your finger.”

        “You just love bein’ coy, huh,” Nick muttered. Dogmeat sneezed again. “C’mon, this pup’s gonna get pneumoconiosis or somethin’.”

        “Ooh that’s a big word, you got an encyclopedia in that computer-head?”

        “Handyman before me died of it.”

        Nora made a displeased noise and covered her nose and mouth. “ _Now_ you tell me.”

        ---

        “Well, this is roomy for a change,” Nick said upon reaching the waiting area.

        The space opened up, five levels high with a glass ceiling unbroken after all these centuries and bathing them in natural light. Seating areas were in multitudes, many dragged in to handle an influx of people. They opted for the closest: two built-in sofas attached to dead planters that sat opposite each other with a coffee table between.

        “I’ll take a couch over a hard bench any day,” Nora said, brushing thick dust from the seat.

        “I should do a perimeter check.”

        “Why?”

        “Look at all these rooms, kid. I know Dogmeat doesn’t seem to be curious, but people could be anywhere.”

        “Not likely,” Nora answered, sitting down.

        “How’s that?” he asked, walking behind her.

        She gestured vaguely. “The dust?”

        “The dust?” Nick parroted. “It’s been centuries, of course there’s—”

        “If someone was here within the past _whatever_ , don’t you think it’d have footprints, or be less than _even_?” Nick took a breath but said nothing in return. “See? I’m right, aren’t I?”

        “Oh, you wanna be lead detective now, do you?” Nick said sardonically.

        “It’s not—” Nora tried to turn, but then felt him place his hat on her head. It fell over her eyes and she laughed. “I’m just going off what you’ve explicitly taught me.”

        “Fine, fine. See? I’m retired now,” he said. She pushed it from her eyes as he sat on the opposite sofa. “You and Ellie take it from here on out, let me enjoy my golden years.”

        “You’re so dumb. You can’t resent your protege for learning from you.”

        He smirked. “One day you’re not gonna need me no more, probably sooner than I figured, _that’s_ the scary part.”

        “I’ll _always_ need a best friend,” she said earnestly.

        “Good thing ya got man’s best friend at your feet.”

        “ _Nick._ ”

        “I’m joking. I’m... It’s...” His voice trailed off. He wasn’t able to meet her eye. “It’s nice to know I’m not imagining the elephant in the room.”

        “What do you mean?”

        “That we’re best friends,” he said softly. “I... I’m not exactly certain I’ve had one of those. That is, I thought I did but they... There wasn’t this...” He waved his hand between them. “ _Comfort._ ”

        Nick was opening up, both emotionally and physically. Sans coat and hat, sleeves rolled up, tie resting loosely on an unbuttoned collar. Permitting himself to appear more mechanical in her presence, like when Nora had kicked off her heels and wiped away her makeup after a long day at the law office.

        Nick identified as a man, but perhaps he had more in common with women of the past, cultivating an appearance to be regarded as something human. Even Nora had had trouble with looking less than perfect in front of her own husband. But here she was, bare-faced with dirty, unruly hair, and Nick all metal and wires and tattered to bits. Feeling like it was OK to simply exist.

        “Can I tell you a secret?” Nick asked.

        “Of course.” She smiled but mentally braced herself for a bombshell.

        “Signing our names, it reminded me... I didn't learn yours til we got to Sanctuary.”

        “Well... _duh_ ,” Nora countered, a tad disappointed. “That's when I told you—”

        “No, not your _real_ name. _Before_ then, I realized I had no idea. I didn't want to bring it up, and I felt like such an _ass_ ‘cause you were so nice to me and I wasn't even bothered to remember something important as your name. You were just... I mean you obviously were making small talk about the whole synth thing, but it was as if I was someone inherently cool instead of inherently an outsider. Guess maybe cause you were an outsider yourself.”

        “Not to sound preachy, but I judge based on character.”

        His eyes finally stopped darting and rested on hers. “I knew you were different when you asked me if I was single—” Nora tittered, feeling silly about it. “— ‘cause... most people don't even suspect I got friends. But you... When you acted like I could be husband material for someone... even if you didn’t mean it, you made me feel... seen. And it didn't matter if I was a downloaded consciousness or a soulless program. To you I was just... some _guy_. And I haven't been that in a long time.”

        Nora bit her lip, not sure what to say. Sorry that he’d felt so alienated? Honored that she could have done something so important for him? Laugh because... it was so absurd to think she could’ve possibly been the first to see him as such?

        “Obviously, we're friends now,” he added quickly, “and things are... different now that you know more about my situation. But... I never got to thank you for that. So... thanks... for seeing me.”

        Her heart broke a bit. “Nick. You don’t have to thank me for that.”

        “No— I know but— _I do ‘_ cause that’s how much it meant to me.”

        She blinked back tears and internally debated whether she should climb over the table to hug him.

        He tapped his cigarette on the carton, then his gaze flickered to her unwavering one. “Why don’t you eat somethin’, you should eat, it’s been a long...” Nick paused, his eyes sweeping the room, then down to the corridor they’d traversed. “ _Hello?_ ” He shouted.

        Nora’s mind snapped into vigilance and she squinted into the darkness. “Huh?”

        “I thought I heard something,” Nick muttered.

        “It’s probably the storm hitting us.”

        “Yeah, probably right.” He held his unlit smoke, his stare still glued to the hall. “Just... Lemme go make sure, huh?” He said, sticking the cigarette behind his ear and flicking on his lighter. She watched him and the dim flame disappear into the shadows.

        “You wanna go?” Nora asked the pup on the floor. Dogmeat blinked sleepily and sighed. She could relate. And maybe it was better he stayed. Nick seemed to have taken the charms of adventuring away with him, the building now eerie and macabre as she waited alone in a room meant for hundreds. If this was post-bomb triage, how much death had happened in this building alone? How many people she knew had been wheeled into these halls? How many had spent their last moments here?

        Nora unearthed her flask meant for first aid, filled with her least favorite liquor to prevent the temptation of stealing sips. This doubled as another sort of emergency: grim thoughts and a nervous stomach. She took a swig and gagged. Terribly nasty stuff, gin. She searched for the gift the grieving family had bestowed on her, dried fruit to chew on to take the taste from her mouth and so Nick wouldn’t nag her.

        His footsteps echoed, drawing near.

        “Oh, good, that’s a good thing to eat,” Nick said as he entered. The synth sounded a bit tired, though for reasons Nora could not fathom.

        “Did you find anything?"

        “Eh, suspect it’s just some plaster fallin’.” He returned the hat from her head to his own.

        “Oh, you’re _back_ , huh?”

        “Retirement wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.” He smiled, then lit his cigarette finally with a sigh.

        “Something on your mind?”

        “Always,” Nick replied. “It’s a matter of whether I can figure out _what_.” The skylight cast an increasingly viridescent hue over him. “Why don’t you snooze? That way when the storm stops you’ll be refreshed enough to make up for lost time.”

        “I dunno if I could sleep, it’s gonna get pretty loud soon.”

        “Sometimes it helps just to pretend too,” Nick said, gesturing to the pack of smokes. She caught his drift. Nicotine would not quell digital nerves, but the placebo effect could.

        Nora laid back and gazed up at the dizzyingly high ceiling, the otherworldly beams of green moved like sunlight through water. She repeated to herself, ‘ _Liminal spaces. Enjoy the novelty of liminal spaces,’_ until the strange display took her away.

        ---

        Thunder rumbled, lightning snapped, the air became charged, making her hair stand on end.

        Darkness. The tunnel stretched so far into solid emptiness, she could perceive nothing but her breath in front of her. She’d walked for so long, but it was as futile as running on a treadmill... she did not seem to be getting any closer to the other side.  
  
        “Nick?” No answer. She knew someone was ahead of her, felt it in her gut, but still no definition in the blackness could be seen. “I know you’re there, I can smell smoke,” she croaked, feeling more sluggish with every word. “My legs are so tired. Please. Please come here?”

        “You have to want it. To really want it.”

        “I do,” she insisted.

        “If you did, you’d have done it by now. When you want it, you’ll have it. I prom—”

        “Stop. You... You sound like Nate.”

        “He would’ve done it by now.”

        “I... I know...” Tears began building up and her legs shook. “But I’m not Nate, I’ve never been anything like him and he... He was always better than me.”

        “That’s the point. You can’t do this.”

        Nora realized finally, stupidly, that the voice wasn't Nick’s at all. “Who’s there?” Not Nate.

        “That’s why I killed him, ‘cause _you’ll_ never get me. You don't have the discipline; you're not a soldier. You’d rather stay in bed and pretend it never happened.”

        There was someone now approaching her, but definitely not her friend— the silhouette was wrong. She tried to retreat but her legs buckled.

        “Nick, he’s here— I found him he’s here—” Nora cried out weakly.

        She tried crawling along the ground, but it was frigid and slippery under her like ice, like the  _Vault floor_ —

        “ _Nick..._ ” she gasped, surfacing from her dream like out of dark, deep waters.

        “Hey, you alright?”

        “Yeah. I...” The waiting room took shape around her. “Stress dreams.”

        “Stress? What you gotta be stressed about?” She blinked at him. “That was sarcasm, but I guess it was in poor taste. I’m really striking out today, huh?”

        “It’s OK— I’m just—” Nick’s figure blurred. “ _Oh._ I'm woozy.”

        “Here.” He handed her the canteen. “You’re lookin’ kinda sweaty.” She guzzled it down, then stared off into space. “You wanna get summore shut eye? I think it’s clearing up, but if you want to sleep—”

        “No, I don’t want to sleep. I just got smacked in the face.”

        “By what?”

        “All my responsibilities. I feel like I’ve been avoiding them for so long—”

        “You’re not avoiding them, kid, this is how some cases go—”

        “No, I mean... I’ve been trying to put them from my mind. Some days I’m so wrapped up in everything I don’t think of Shaun at all. Does that make me a terrible mother?”

        “No. No, no.”

        “Being in this world... with all the loss and change, if I think of it as temporary... as a game... it's easy.”

        “Oh. Well... your son’s one thing, but the world... it ain't comin’ back no matter what. Pretending none of this is real... that's not _healing_.”

        “But it's coping.”

        Nick sighed. “Yeah... Alright, I’ll grant you that. Just make sure you stay a little grounded.”

        “It’s just... I don’t know how much healing I’m going to need yet. I don’t know if I’ve lost Shaun for good yet.”

        “Hey, that’s not a road of thinking you need to travel, OK? Shaun is... he’s like a coin spinnin’ in the air. Til that coin lands, it’s just...” He made a circular motion. “No amount of mental strife on your part is gonna change which side it lands on. But I need you to be all in when the time comes for us to act. It can’t be a game.”

        “My son is never a game,” she said soberly.

        “I know. But I also know you go runnin’ in places like you got eight more lives than you do. Sometimes the wisest thing to do is _not_ to act. Remember that.”

        She nodded. “I know. I just don’t want to be someone who’d rather stay in bed than fight a tough battle.”

        “Now who said that?”

        She shrugged. “Inner demons, I guess.”

        “Yeah, well, you tell them to shut up for me, eh?” She gave a weak but appreciative smile. He glanced around the room. “Hey... you hear that?”

        Nora strained her hearing. “No...” Just a bit of creaking.

        “Exactly,” Nick whispered, then abruptly rose. “Storm’s over, time to dash.”

        “Oh. Guess so,” Nora said, embarrassed. “I’m not as perceptive as I’d like to think.”

        “You’re just too far in your head. Once we get you back in town, Piper will be buzzing in your ear so loudly you won’t have a moment to think.”

        ---

        “This side of Boston is a mess, huh,” Nick said, making note of the crumbling structures that laid feet from the steps of their sanctum. “It’s a damn blessing that rad-storm caught us while we were near something with four walls and a roof. No wonder the guestbook was filled to the ceiling.”

        “It’s bizarre how some things are still standing while their neighbors are nothing but rubble.” Nora sighed.

        “Guess it’s for the same reason you and I are here. An act of God.”

        She found it a tad contradictory for Nick to believe in divine intervention but not star signs. “Are you religious?” she asked as they descended the steps.

        Nick laughed. “Is it kosher for a robot _to be_? I mean, we can debate humanity but ‘ones and zeroes’ ain't a soul, no matter how you slice it. _Immortal_ , arguably, but not a soul.” He paused. “Wait, are you?”

        “I’ve repressed the Catholic part of my childhood,” she mumbled, to which Nick let out a laugh that was almost knowing. “But I... I’d like to think that Nate’s somewhere. Safe and happy. And that my relatives’ Sunday attendance got them in the gate. But maybe that’s coping, and not healing.”

        “No, no... that’s healing. If it makes you accept the present, it’s healing.” They walked in silence for a moment, watching the remains of the storm crackle a few miles away from them. “Hey, I got a question rattlin’ around,” Nick said. “And you don’t have to answer now if you’re unsure.”

        “What’s up?”

        “Are you with me for the long haul?”

        The question struck her odd. “Y-Yeah I... I told you I was always going to be your friend, I—”

        “No, what I mean is... after we find you your kid, uh... I know you were planning on being a working mom, but situations were... _different_ back then,” he said vaguely. “Are you gonna want to stay on with the whole ‘roaming detective’ biz, or are you gonna focus on somethin’ more nine-to-five?”

        “I would be bummed to quit working with you, Nick.”

        “Yeah?” he asked hopefully.

        “Yeah, I enjoy this, _a lot_. I know I... had a bit of trouble earlier, but everyone has to have a bad day at work at least once. My legal cases didn’t require gun battles, but they definitely involved tragedy,” she said, and Nick made a solemn agreeing sound. “I’m excited to get better, to tackle harder jobs. It’s the closest thing to what I was trying to do before. God, I don’t wanna be a farmer or a shopkeep.”

        “It’s safer, though. Better hours.”

        “But it’d be miserable. Boring. You’d be out on a job, and I’d count the days until you came back to visit.”

        “ _Heh._ ”

        “What.”

        “Oh. I dunno, I was thinking it was selfish for me to want to keep you around just ‘cause you’re fun.”

        “My life doesn’t end just ‘cause I’m a mom.”

        “That’s true. Just... I-I don’t wanna be a down—” He stopped himself “ _Er_... I don’t want to say you’re not capable of bringing up a child on your own, it’s just I’ve seen Piper wranglin’ her sis and it takes a village.”

        “I’ll always have Codsworth so it’s not like I need to find a babysitter.”

        “Yeah. Also true. He kept you safe out in the wilds, I’m sure minding a kid will be a cakewalk.” He looked at her. “If you’re confident, then so am I.”

        Nick envisioning a future where Shaun was present was a greater comfort than just his verbal assurance that things would work out. To her, it meant he genuinely believed her son would return to her arms. And that what she and the detective had built wouldn’t end once that day came to pass. Imagining raising Shaun without a father figure was a concept that often haunted her but... Well... She saw how Nick doted on Ellie, how he was firm with Piper, and paternal with Nat... Shaun would have someone strong and kind to look up to, even if he wasn’t technically his dad.

        “It takes a village, but I have a lot of friends now I can’t wait for him to meet,” she said with a smile.

        “You’d want a merc around your kid?” Nick grumbled.

        “You always go back to that!” Nora laughed. “Mac’s a dad, for Christ’s sake, and he swears less than _you_.”

        “ _Anyway._ ” Nick sighed, apparently displeased knowing a mercenary had him beat in the child-friendly department. “Now that we’re on the same page... Y’know with the Minutemen having you make note of outpost locations...? Maybe we could scope out a place of our own.”

        “ _Oh?_ ” Nora asked.

        “A— Our’s as in, us— the _agency_ , I mean.”

        “Oh, not a summer home for Nick and Nora?”

        “Funny.”

        “Haven’t you ever dreamed of a beach house?”

        “I just want a bed and a roof to put over your head,” he said, deflecting. “I know it’s getting warmer, but I feel god awful when you gotta huddle on the cold wet ground.”

        “Is all this worth slowing down for me? Usually you can make the trip faster without breaks.”

        “Hey, taking the time out is worth the morale boost.”

        “That means a lot.”

        “What, that I let you eat and sleep?”

        “That me being here is that important to you.”

        “Well, I think we’ve established _that_.”

        “Sometimes you just need to hear that you’re not a burden.”

        “A burden is someone who doesn’t try. It’s got nothing to do with what a person needs. No matter how much anyone may have told you otherwise.”

        Dogmeat dashed ahead of her and took a sharp turn down an alley.

        "Dogmeat? Hey!" Nora called. His feet scampered away through the poorly lit backstreet and onto the next road.

        " _Unprofessional_ ," Nick razzed as they slowly tailed after him.

        "Hey, you're just gonna ignore me?" Nora asked once reaching her canine companion. He continued sniffing erratic paths around the ruined city.

        "Eh, sometimes he needs to solve his own mysteries," Nick grabbed a screwdriver and fussed with a loose joint. "Might as well let him get it out of his system.”

        The Shepherd was now sniffing with purpose at a patch of overgrown foliage sprouting through the cracked foundation of a crumbling old building. His tail wagged as he pushed himself through the bramble and further into the structure.

        "What'd you find boy?" Nora asked, following him. "You chasing mutant squirrels?"

        "Careful, kids." Nick chuckled. “This ain’t a playground.”

        Dogmeat stopped and growled. Before Nora could step back, she met the muzzle of a rifle. The Shepherd began barking ferociously. Nora's alarm bells shouted at her to draw her weapon but somehow she couldn't move.

        "Stay back!" a voice demanded. Nora nearly fell backwards as two people emerged from the rubble and shadows; a curly-haired woman wielding a gun, and a man with tattered clothes and darting eyes. "Call off your dog or I shoot you both!"

        "Drop it!" Nick yelled, brandishing his own as he approached. "You're out of your league!"

        "Oh!" The woman's demeanor shifted entirely. "Detective!"

        "Dogmeat, back," Nora ordered as she stumbled away. The dog obeyed, though he looked at her questioningly.

        The woman lowered her bulky firearm. "My apologies."

        The man with her pointed a timid finger. "It’s him, it’s the synth we saw—"

        "Don't worry, he's a prototype," the woman replied.

        "Excuse me, but have we met?" Nick asked firmly, still aiming his pistol.

        "No. No, we took shelter in the same building," she answered. Nick stepped in front of Nora. "Oh. I see. She's the partner."

        "How do you know so much—"

        "I'm sorry, there’s no time. We have to go," she said, backing away. "We thought you were—” She screwed up her face. “We simply hid from you—"

        "Is someone chasing you?" Nora asked. "Are you in trouble? Maybe I can help?"

        "No, I have it under control." She turned to the man cowering behind her. "Go," she said gently. He nodded but his eyes still darted to the pair, and he trembled as if their guns were still trained at him.

        "Go where—?" Nora tried to ask.

        "If you follow I must shoot you. I'm sorry.” She picked up a bag. “It’s not personal. We’ll all be better off if you live,” she said, eyeing Nora specifically as if something else hid beneath her words.

        Nora turned to Nick for guidance, but he stood frozen in place, bewildered as he watched the pair scurry off.

        "Nick?" she whispered.

        His attention snapped back to her. "She's wearing a similar coat to that stranger who helped us when you got hurt."

        "Do you think they're in that Railroad thing too?"

        “Should we—”

        "If you want to help, don’t follow _us_ , follow the freedom trail," they heard the woman say from afar.

        "The what?" Nick asked, but she was nowhere to be seen.

        "What is she talking about?"

        "No idea. Code or... nonsense..." His shoulders raised slightly. "I don't like this— I don't like all these double-speakin' sorts creepin' about around you. They were in there with us the whole time and we _didn’t even know_ ,” he hissed through his teeth. “I'll feel better once we're back behind fortified walls where at least there aren’t any spies under my desk."

        Nora nodded, but continued glancing back, still mystified and intrigued. These stealthy agents may be tracking her, yes, but it was clear they meant her no harm. And more than that... they seemed to be  _reaching out._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna work hard to update faster but I have to send my computer in for repairs and I don't know how long it'll take, so things might be a bit up in the air for a bit. Thanks for sticking with this, and extra thanks to everyone who leaves me feedback ;__; <3
> 
> Plugging [my main blog](http://television-for-dinner.tumblr.com/tagged/fic+stuff) and [my art/fanworks blog](http://tommytonebender.tumblr.com), cryptic message about checking my side bar, etcetera.


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